The Runaways
by No Angels
Summary: Jack drops a bombshell that leaves Phryne picking up pieces of their relationship whilst trying to find two missing teenagers, and remember one very special birthday.


"Pardon?" Miss Fisher exclaimed, slightly bewildered. She tried to hide the sincere disappointment in her voice as Jack Robinson accepted a cup of tea. It was a beautiful spring day, and the mood in the Fisher household had been strange, until Jack Robinson had said what was on his mind, which only added to the tense tone of the house. A re-location. Phryne Fisher knew what that meant. It meant the end of their investigations together. Jack Robinson was to move to Perth, as requested by the Chief Commissioner after Jack's wonderful work on various cases. He swallowed hard and repeated what he had said.

"I'm to move to Perth, taking up the position of Chief Inspector in a small town, where the problems are greater than they are here," said Jack, avoiding Miss Fisher's eyes.

"It's more money," he went on, "and my sister lives up there, so I shan't be short of a place to stay."

Miss Fisher smiled placidly. "Of course I am delighted for you Jack," she said, sipping her tea collectedly. "I'm glad your efforts have been noticed, after all this time. You have solved some great cases."

Jack looked at her briefly, wondering whether her remark was a true complement or not. It was obvious that he, Jack Robinson, had not worked alone on any of the 'great cases' that he had solved. Almost every case had involved Miss Fisher, and to be frank, without her, the cases would have remained unsolved.

He cleared his throat. "I realize that this is big," said Jack hastily, as the pause between them grew to an uncomfortable stage.

Phryne cut him off, her eyes darting from him to the window and back again. "Big?" she repeated, her voice slightly shaken.

Jack eyed her nervously. It was hard to know just what she was thinking, and this unsettled him deeply. He waited for her to continue, but she seemed to be finished.

Phryne looked at him again questioningly. "What are you waiting for me to say, Inspector?" she asked him curiously, placing her cup down in fear that she might drop it. It had been a trying day, and she was not in the mood for people who couldn't get their words out.

Jack merely looked at her blankly, his mouth opening to reply. "I- uh," he began.

Phryne waited, raising her eyebrows expectantly. Are you waiting for me to tell you not to move? To stay here with me, to not crush our partnership again like you did once before, thought Phryne to herself.

Jack made a strange noise before shaking his head quickly. "I just thought you'd like to know," he told her, worried that his voice would come out shaking. It didn't, and he took a moment to congratulate himself.

Phryne stood up, facing her back to him and strolling over to the empty fireplace. Her eyes began to sparkle dangerously, and she decided not to turn around in case the tears began to roll down her cheeks.

"Well, I'm very happy for you," said Phryne, forcing her voice to sound light hearted.

Jack waited for her to say more, but she didn't. Finishing his tea, Jack decided it was best to leave, and took up his hat. "Really, Inspector," added Phryne, turning to face him as he stood up.

Jack smiled at her briefly. He passed Dot (who had been lurking in the doorway), on his way out, and nodded at her.

"Thank you for the tea," he said, and took his leave, not looking back.

Phryne watched him go from the window and slumped down in her favourite seat, shutting her eyes as Dot came in to take away the tea tray. She eyed Phryne carefully, wondering if she should say anything. Dot had known of Jack's re-location through Hugh, but hadn't had the heart to break it to her mistress. She was rather glad that Jack had done it himself.

"Well," said Phryne suddenly, standing up and brushing down her blouse. "That's that."

Dot thought it best not to reply, and instead bore the tray out of the room, leaving a baffled Miss Fisher to pick up the pieces of the relationship that Jack Robinson had so kindly left for her.

She wasn't surprised to find that her hands were trembling slightly. Leaving the palour in something of a rush, she took to the staircase two and a time and reached her bedroom, shutting the door softly behind her.

Dot watched her go with a sigh. "Dear Inspector Robinson," she whispered whilst putting the tea things away. "How much you mean to her."

Jack Robinson had headed back to his office in a strange mood. Hugh greeted him edgily, unsure of how his meeting with Miss Fisher had gone.

"Everything alright, sir?" asked Hugh as Jack entered the station.

"Everything went surprisingly well, constable. She didn't seem as angry as I thought she might have been," said Jack, heading into his office and sitting down.

Hugh smiled with relief. If Miss Fisher was okay, then that meant Dot was happy, and that made Hugh very happy.

"That's good sir," said Hugh, following his boss into the small but neat office. "I'm sorry to darken the mood, but I've had a call from a Mr. and Mrs. Winston, their son is missing."

"Thank you Collins. Leave the details with me."

Hugh nodded and left, leaving a folder on Jack's desk concerning the case of the missing Winston Boy.

Dot slumped down in a kitchen chair, twisting a dishtowel through her fingers absently. It really was a lovely day… weather wise, anyway. Dot knew what was wrong, and had dearly hoped that Jack Robinson would have realized what the date was, and chosen some other day to break his news. But he had chosen today, the twenty first of September, Janie Fisher's birthday.

Mr. Butler entered the kitchen, a crate of fruit in his arms. "This just arrived," he said, heaving his burden down onto the table. "Lovely in-season fruit," he commented.

"Perhaps that will lighten Miss Fisher's mood," said Dot, helping to unload the sweet smelling fruit.

"What do you mean?" asked Mr. Butler curiously.

Dot leaned in, dropping her voice to a whisper. "Today is Miss Phryne's sister's birthday… you know the one who… died," explained Dot, watching the butler's face fall.

"Oh dear. And you think that the Inspector's visit before has only added to the tension?" asked Mr. Butler, shaking his head.

Dot nodded and stood up. "I do wish men would think things through sometimes," said Dot somewhat angrily. "Not you Mr. Butler," added Dot hastily, "but… well you know… even Hugh can be a bit rash sometimes."

Mr. Butler gave her a consoling smile and nodded. "I understand. But what shall we do about Miss Fisher?"

Dot folded her arms and leaned against the kitchen sink. "I don't know. Poor Miss Phryne. She does so love the Inspector," sighed Dot.

"And he loves her," pointed out Mr. Butler easily.

Dot raised her eyebrows curiously at him. "I didn't think you would be the type to notice things like that," laughed Dot, agreeing with him.

"Dorothy, it is not hard to notice something that is right before your eyes. I see the way he looks at her, the way he stays later than he needs to when they are investigating their odd little murders together. He seems to find any excuse to show up on her doorstep, and I know for a fact, whether he likes it or not, he loves her."

Mr. Butler let the end of his sentence settle in the room, and Dot grinned. "Of course he does. How sweet!" she exclaimed, smiling. Her face fell suddenly, and she let out a long sigh. "But now the Inspector's leaving, and all that will end," she said sadly.

Mr. Butler frowned. "It is a bit of a puzzle," he commented.

Dot nodded. That it was.

It was just after lunch when the phone rang, and Mr. Butler answered it with his usual grace, catching the phone on its third ring. "Fisher residence, how may I assist?"

"Mr. Butler, its Inspector Robinson, is Miss Fisher available?" came Jack's voice. "Another case that I would value her help over."

"She's in her room, I'll just see if she is available, shall I?" replied the butler, and placed down the phone. Miss Fisher had not been out of her room all day, which was highly unusual when there were no murders to be puzzled over, or no pretty young men about.

He went up the stairs to her boudoir, knocking gently. "Miss Fisher?"

There was no reply. How inconvenient, thought Mr. Butler. He was about to call for Dot to help, when he realized that she had gone out. Blast, he thought. It really was a messy sort of a day.

He was contemplating whether to knock again, when there was a quite, "Come in," from the other side of the door, and he inched it open.

The room was light, the curtain drawn allowing sunlight to stream through onto the bed where Miss Fisher sat, looking out the window. She turned to face him, and he noticed that her eyes were shining.

"The Inspector is on the phone," said Mr. Butler.

Miss Fisher sniffed and tried a smile. "What is it regarding?" she asked.

"Another case, miss, he said he would like your help with it."

Miss Fisher flinched and stood up. "I guess I better take it then, could be the last one."

"I can tell him to call another time," said Mr. Butler hastily.

Miss Fisher smiled at him, walking out the door. "Thank you, you're very kind, but I can handle it," she said, her voice almost a whisper.

"You don't always have to," Mr. Butler found himself saying. Miss Fisher had grown very dear to him, and he hated to see her upset.

She gave him another smile before skipping lightly down the stairs to where the phone lay on its side. "Inspector, another case I hear?" he heard her say, and mentally gave her points for coming across as her normal chirpy self.

"A boy's gone missing, and I need you to help me find him," said Jack into the phone.

Phryne swallowed and replied with ease. "Happy to help. Shall I swing by now?"

"Yes, that would be fine. See you soon," said Jack, and hung up, remaining blissfully unaware of her true feelings.

Meanwhile, Cec and Bert had dropped Dot at the station, and were parked outside waiting for her.

"She seemed angry," commented Cec, rolling down the window and lighting a cigarette. Bert nodded. "I hope that young bloke Collins is ready for her," he muttered.

"Too right," said Cec.

Hugh Collins was not ready for Dot or the mood she was in. "Hugh," she said angrily, bursting into the station.

"Dottie?" said Hugh, bewildered. "Is anything the matter?"

Dot calmed down and leaned on the counter top. Hugh had been busy with some sort of paperwork, and his face was growing more anxious by the second.

Dot softened her face and smiled briefly at him. "I'm sorry Hugh, I'm not angry at you… I- just," she faltered, her smile drooping. "It's the inspector. I must speak with him urgently."

Hugh frowned. "Uh, I think he's busy," he said, gesturing towards the closed door. Dot gave him a stern look. "I don't care. Please fetch him for me," she said.

Hugh opened his mouth to repeat himself, thought about it, and shut his mouth quickly, deciding that whatever was on Dot's mind could not be improved by his arguments. Instead, he sidled over to the door, giving a gentle knock.

"Yes?" came a voice from within.

"Miss Williams wants to talk to you sir," said Hugh nervously, looking at Dot. She had her arms folded and looked more than a little cross. "I think it might be important."

"Did she come with Miss Fisher?" asked Jack, opening the door and looking around.

Dot shook her head and barged into the office, reminding Jack of the way Phryne would enter without being asked.

"No, I came alone actually," said Dot, taking a seat boldly.

Jack looked at her and dismissed Hugh. "Thank you Collins, I'll handle this," he said.

Hugh nodded and gave Dot a look that seemed to say "PLEASE DON'T GET ME FIRED," and left.

Dot smiled upon the inspector as they sat facing each other before clearing her throat.

"I have a few questions for you," Dot informed him.

Jack raised his eyebrows. "For me?"

"Yes."

"Fire away then, Miss Williams."

"Number one," started Dot, looking at him sternly. "Do you have any idea at all why I am here?" she asked.

Jack frowned and shook his head. "I-uh, should I know the answer to this?"

Dot didn't reply, but looked out the window for a moment. "Number two, do you know what the date is today?" she asked.

Jack rifled through his desk and located the paper, showing Dot the date in the corner. "I believe that it's the twenty first," said Jack.

"Yes. That it is. Is there anything significant about this day?"

Jack narrowed his eyes and leaned back in his chair, slightly fed up. "I feel like you are trying to tell me something. I am expecting Miss Fisher here any moment," said Jack. "I have a lot to do, and if you'd be so kind to say what you have to say, that would be very helpful."

"It's Janie's birthday, Inspector, you remember Miss Fisher's little sister who died all those years ago? Today was bad enough, and then you come in and tell Miss Phryne that you are going to move away, and oh dear you simply can't do this," cried Dot, and stood up in a fluster. "Please, try and think before you make any rash decisions about your future."

Jack looked at her, bewildered. "Janie's birthday," he said, his mind puzzling over the sudden problem that was slowly arising before his eyes.

Dot nodded. "And you better look sharp about your priorities, Inspector," said Dot, her voice dropping to a whisper as they heard Miss Fisher talking to Hugh outside.

"I have no problems with my priorities," whispered Jack sternly.

At that moment, Miss Fisher sailed into the office in a cloud of perfume, greeting Dot warmly. "Hello Dot, I saw Cec and Bert outside. What on earth are you two talking about?" she asked, smiling.

Dot gave the Inspector one last menacing look before smiling upon her friend. "Nothing, nothing at all. I better be off," said Dot, and left the office in a hurry.

The door clicked shut behind Phryne and Jack, and they turned to face each other.

"I'm sorry," said Jack after a moment, sitting down in his chair slowly.

Phryne took her usual place in the other chair. "Oh?" she replied casually. Her attire for the spring day was most appealing, and had left Jack at a loss for words for a moment. Her dress was purple and ended just where her knees were, the fabric soft and sparkling. Her hair bore a flower ornament, complementing the dark shade of her hair. He took in her image for a moment and closed his eyes.

"Why are you sorry?" asked Phryne, confused.

"I had forgotten that today was your sister's birthday," he admitted, his eyes softening as her face hardened, and her eyes became distant again.

She was silent for a minute, and he waited, wondering what she would say. He suddenly thought to himself if bringing up Miss Fisher's dead sister was a good idea. Deciding that it probably wasn't a good move, he cleared his throat and looked away from her awkwardly, changing the subject to the recent disappearance of the Winston boy.

"Ralph Winston… went missing…" Jack trailed off and noticed to his horror that Phryne's eyes were damp and without warning, a tear rolled down her cheek. She blinked quickly and tried to hide her emotions by wiping her cheek quickly, but Jack was not a fool, no matter what Dot thought.

"Phryne?" said Jack softly.

He heard her sniff. "Everything's fine, Inspector," she said shakily, trying a wobbly smile.

Jack paused. He had noticed with some annoyance that she had resorted to calling him 'Inspector' ever since he had told her of his re-location. Were they no longer on first name basis? Or had Jack been wrong about the way Phryne had reacted to his news?

Turning to look out the small window, the sunlight caught at her eyes, which were sparkling with tears. "Do go on," she encouraged.

Jack was frozen with guilt and surprise. It was not often that Miss Fisher showed any deep emotions at all, and suddenly he had no idea how to comfort her.

"You aren't okay Phryne," he told her gently, reaching over the table to touch her hand that rested there absently. She flinched under his touch, but did not draw away.

"What does it matter if I'm okay or not," she told him heavily.

Jack pushed out his chair and stood up, going around to her side and kneeling down so their eyes were level. "It matters to me," he said gently.

"Then why are you leaving?" she whispered, still not looking at him.

"What?" he asked, his voice puzzled.

"You're going to Perth. That means the end of us, our investigations, all our adventures together," sniffed Phryne.

Jack shook his head. "But… I thought you were happy for me," he said.

Phryne turned to look at him again. "I am. You deserve this, Jack. It's just that… I'm going to miss you terribly," she sighed, her eyes staring into his with longing.

Jack's heart dropped as he was hit with the sudden realization that he would miss her too. A lot. But he had already confirmed everything with the Chief Commissioner… it was too hard to back out now.

Jack returned her gaze before taking his own seat again. "Ralph Winston," he continued. "A rather nice boy I thought, by this image," he said, handing Phryne a photograph of a young, innocent face of sixteen. Leaving the previous conversation up in the air, Phryne regarded the photo and slid it back across the table. This just might be my last ever investigation with him, she thought to herself, and suddenly, she wanted nothing more than to find the missing boy.

"It just so happens," said Phryne, "that I know him. He delivers my milk."

Jack raised his eyebrows. "A nice boy?" he asked of her.

"I've only met him a few times, good lad. Where do you suppose he has got to?"

Jack looked up thoughtfully. "His parents think he's run away. Hugh interviewed them… let me just find the notes he took," said Jack, and began rummaging for the small notebook.

"Ah, here we go. Yes, his parents suspect he ran away… possibly with a girl."

Phryne sat up a little straighter. "Do we know who this girl is?"

Jack read on. "Uh, a Miss Muriel Thatcher," he noted.

"No surprises there," remarked Phryne. "I always picked Muriel to be the run away type.

Jack eyed her curiously. "How is it that you know all about these people in question?"

Phryne shrugged. "Jane goes to school with Muriel. Her sister is one of Jane's good friends. Had she been reported missing as well?" asked Phryne.

"We could ask Jane, is she at home?"

Phryne checked looked at the clock. "She should be by now."

Jack picked up the phone and dialed.

After a brief conversation, it was concluded that Muriel Thatcher had also disappeared. Jack leaned back, satisfied. "Well, now we're getting somewhere."

"Indeed," said Phryne. "Now all we need to do is track down these star crossed lovers. They can't have gotten far. Any suggestions?" she asked.

Jack shook his head. "Perhaps Jane could help us with that one," suggested Jack. Phryne nodded and stood up. "I should go, I'll telephone later. Cheerio," she said, and left.

"Phryne, wait," said Jack quickly, standing up too quickly and hitting his knee of the edge of his desk.

Phryne turned and smothered a small giggle. "Yes?"

Jack rubbed his knee quickly and suppressed the urge to swear. "I- are you sure you're okay?" he asked, his face growing concerned.

Phryne smiled. "One must not let grief trap them into a corner. I shall be fine, thank you Inspector."

Jack nodded, wishing she would just call him Jack again.

Hugh smiled as Miss Fisher swept out of the station, a steely look upon her dutch doll face. She stepped out into the weak spring sun, and walked to her magnificent car.

Dot was waiting on the sidewalk, her terracotta-pot shaped hat perched upon her head.

"I thought I might as well wait for you," she shrugged.

Phryne smiled and opened the car doors, informing Dot of the latest case.

"It sounds like a thrilling love story," commented Dot after Phryne had given her a brief insight.

Phryne agreed and paused as she went to turn the engine on. "Dot, would you mind terribly if we were to… make a quick detour on the way home?"

Dot eyed the bunch of flowers lying in the backseat and shook her head. "Not at all miss."

Phryne started the engine, and Dot watched the street fly by as the big car carried them to place where, after all those years, Miss Fisher had finally found Janie at the head of the river. Foyle's words surged through Phryne's head, making her bite down on her tongue angrily. "She died gloriously," he had said, his mouth so dangerously close to her ear. Phryne shivered.

"Miss?" asked Dot, noticing the icy mood of her friend.

"Sorry, I- it's been rather a difficult day Dot."

"I understand miss, no need for explanations," said Dot kindly as the car rolled to halt. Phryne took a deep breath before reaching into the back seat for the small bunch of flowers, and lead Dot to the edge of the river.

It had been so long since she had gone, and now, finally, Phryne knew what had really happened. "After all this time," said Phryne softly, and dropped to her knees beside the river that rushed past, making a soft whooshing sound. She held onto the flowers tightly, before closing her eyes and letting them go into the water. The river picked them up and carried them downstream, and Phryne watched them go with a steady gaze.

Dot, who had chosen to keep her distance for the time being, thought angrily of Jack Robinson at his desk. He should be here with her now, thought Dot, and decided that in the absence of the Inspector, it was up to herself, Dorothy Williams, to take his place as the comforter.

She walked up beside her mistress, slipping her small hand into Phryne's. Miss Fisher didn't look at her or pull away, instead she gripped her maid's hand gratefully, and together, the two women watch the river eat up the flowers as they disappeared.

"Happy birthday Janie," Dot heard Phryne say, and Dot felt herself beginning to cry.

"Don't cry, Dot. Everything's alright," said Phryne softly.

Dot sniffed. "I should be comforting you, not the other way around!" cried Dot, and Phryne laughed softly.

They waited a few minutes before Phryne stood up, brushing herself down.

"Well, I must get home, I have some questions to ask Jane about the case," said Phryne, acting as though nothing had happened. She smiled at Dot and retreated to the car, not looking back.

They drove home in silence, for there didn't seem to be anything else to say.

Dot concluded that a nice dinner was in order, and let Mr. Butler know as she entered the house. "Jane?" called Dot.

A small face appeared at the top of the staircase. "Yes Dot?"

"Miss Phryne needs to speak to you about the case."

"Oh, Miss Phryne!" cried Jane joyfully skipping lightly down the stairs, her eyes shining. "I've found out some more about the case for you!"

Phryne led Jane into the palour. "How wonderful, well done! Do tell all," she prompted.

Jane swallowed, her face flushed red with pride. "It's really quite exciting isn't it?" she began. Phryne nodded. Not the word she would have used, but there was no point dampening Jane's spirit.

"You see, I'm good friends with Muriel's sister, Esther, and I asked her about the disappearance. It turns out that when Muriel left, a whole lot of money went missing from their house, so Esther suspects that Muriel took the money and ran off with Ralph Winston!" said Jane earnestly.

Phryne raised her eyebrows. "How romantic. Have you any idea where they might have gone?"

Jane thought hard. "They've only be gone a few days, and they could have only gone by foot," Jane pointed out.

Phryne nodded. "True. It's always handy when missing girls have kept a diary, do you suppose Muriel kept one?"

Jane shrugged. "I'll asked Esther," she said, and ran out of the room to dial the number. Phryne watched her, with sudden pride. Jane was indeed a smart young woman.

After a short minute, Jane hung up and came back to the palour, smiling. "Esther says she will come now with the diary, isn't that lucky?" said Jane excitedly.

"Bravo!" commented Phryne. "Shall we get some tea ready for her?"

Jane nodded and skipped out again to prepare for her guest, leaving Phryne to puzzle over the number of problems before her. She wondered briefly whether she should alert Jack of her findings, but decided not to. "No use getting to attached to a man that will soon be leaving," she said to the empty room, and sighed a deep and pitiful sigh.

Esther Thatcher was Jane's age but thinner, with big curious eyes that surveyed Phryne carefully as she handed over her sister's diary.

"Miss Fisher, so glad to meet you," said Esther in her tinkling voice.

"I'm very grateful to you, my dear. Don't worry, we will find Ralph and your sister."

Esther smiled and took a seat by Jane in the palour, sipping tea whilst Phryne browsed over the diary with interest. It was obvious that the young couple had decided to run away.

"It says here that she and Ralph are going to hide out in Robert's cellar… what does that mean?" Phryne asked, frowning.

Esther's eyes widened. "That's my uncle's house! Number three Holland Street, just down the road. He is a dear, slightly deaf… he owns a house near the beach, is that where they are?" asked Esther, bewildered. "Uncle Robert can be tricked into buying twenty cats if the salesman is charming enough, Muriel must have the dear wrapped around her little finger. She's smart, Muriel is."

"Not smart enough to take her diary with her," said Jane, and Esther laughed, happy that she was on the track to finding Muriel.

"Well, I better go and get them both, Ralph's family is worried sick," sighed Phryne.

"So is my mother, should I tell her?" asked Esther.

"Just tell your mother that she is safe. I'll go and fetch them by myself, they may not come if I bring the police or their parents, wouldn't you agree?"

Esther agreed.

"How thrilling this all is! Can we come too, Miss Phryne?" pleaded Jane.

Phryne found that she couldn't deny Jane her wish, after all, she had helped a lot. It was only a trivial case. "Well, it's not dangerous, I guess it will be alright. Come on, better late than never. I'll tell Dot."

Jane and Esther grinned at each other.

"Dot, I'm going to collect the two runaway children, be back later," called Phryne.

Dot appeared at the doorway of the dining room. "Where are they? Shall I tell the Inspector?" she asked.

Phryne shrugged. "They are at 3 Holland Street, just down the road. If you think it appropriate to tell the Inspector my dear, you may, but it doesn't bother me. Come on girls." Phryne grabbed her coat on the way out, popping her golden pistol into one deep pocket.

"You didn't see that," she whispered to the two girls as Esther watched her, mouth hanging open in awe.

Jane and Esther followed Phryne out to the car, climbing in the back with excitement. "Now girls, be tactful. They obviously are going to be very angry that we found them, and I am in no mood for a fuss."

Jane nodded and nudged her friend. "No fuss," she repeated sternly, and Esther nodded.

Phryne took to the road, taking directions from the ever helpful Esther, her mind wandering dangerously to Jack Robinson. She regretted not taking him with her, and she just knew he would be angry with her.

"Well, he's the one who's leaving," she muttered.

"Sorry miss?" came a voice from the backseat.

Phryne shook her head. "Left or right at the next corner?"

"Left," instructed Esther importantly. "Then it's the third house on the right. Oh gosh, we're nearly there!" she squealed.

Phryne turned back and gave her a stern look. "I think it's better if the two of you wait in the car, I'll be in and out like a flash. Move over to make room for them, if you'd be so kind," said Phryne, and pulled up outside a large house. The girls sighed and did as they were bid, watching eagerly as Miss Fisher opened the car door and stepped out into the windy street. The sea nearby was loud and rumbling. Phryne looked around her. "A nice street," she commented. There were small trees lining the road, and the houses were all big and gorgeous. Phryne couldn't imagine why someone would want to live all alone in such a big house, and was grateful for the full house she had.

She looked up. It towered over her, red bricked and solid.

She skipped up the front steps to a small balcony and knocked on the door. Remembering that the man was slightly hard of hearing, she knocked again loudly, straining her ears.

There was a patter of slippered-feet, and an middle-aged man appeared before her. He was slightly hunched and wore glasses that hung off his nose. His hair was a light brown that was streaked with grey. He was loosely draped in a smart jacket, and gave Phryne a piercing look.

"Hello dear, what can I do for you?"

Phryne smiled. "I was wondering, this may seem a slightly odd request, but I way wondering if I might take a look in your basement? Mr. Thatcher, isn't it?"

The man nodded and opened the door wider.

"Is there a problem?"

Phryne walked through the door. The house was considerably dark due to the thick, undrawn curtains, and Phryne shivered. "I believe that your basement in currently the home of your niece, Muriel, and her boyfriend. I have come to collect them," said Phryne smoothly, and was met with a confused look. "Let me take your coat," he offered, and Phryne gave up her coat, looking around absently. Robert Thatcher was stalling, she knew that much.

"I have no idea what you're talking about, but take a look, by all means," he shrugged. Phryne frowned. So, Robert was playing dumb… interesting. He looked at Miss Fisher, surveying her fancy clothes with disregard and led Phryne to a small door. "It's just down these steps. I say, I don't think you'll find what you're looking for," began Robert. "Muriel isn't here."

Phryne gave him look that seemed to say, "Give up now, I know your secrets," and began down the stairs, Mr. Thatcher watching over her like a hawk.

"Muriel? Ralph? Come on, the games up," called Phryne. She paused, but there was no answer. "Everyone is worried about you," added Phryne, trying to appeal to the couple's guilty side, but there was still no answer. The cellar was dark and small, and there were too many boxes to hide behind. Suddenly the task at hand seemed a lot more confusing and risky than she had anticipated.

"I told you, they aren't here," said a voice from the top of the cellar steps.

Phryne didn't believe him, and continued to look around. There was a slight noise to her right, and as her head snapped around, she caught sight of a foot sticking out from behind a crate of wine.

"Hello?" she called carefully. "Muriel?"

At that moment, there was a loud bang, and darkness filled the room. Phryne turned around, and found that the cellar door was shut. "What on earth?" she whispered, and was answered by a soft and scared voice.

"Hello?" said the small voice.

Phryne strained her eyes. "Ralph? Is that you?"

"It's me," came the reply, and a rustling suggested that there was more than one person hidden in the darkness.

"It's Ralph Winston and Muriel Thatcher, have you come to rescue us?" came a girl's voice. Phryne frowned. "Rescue you?" she asked, her voice devoured by darkness.

"What's going on?" she asked again.

"Can you untie us, please? The door will be locked, he always locks it," said Muriel.

Phryne, confused, reached into her purse and lit a handy match. She lowered it steadily, and followed the voice to behind a crate.

A boy whom she recognized as Ralph Winston, and a girl around the same age, were tied up together, their feet and hands bound tightly. Their faces were smeared with dirt and dust, their mouths downcast and their eyes worried.

"Oh my, hang on a second," said Phryne, and reached for the ropes that bound them, the match burning out.

"Thanks, who are you?" gasped Muriel, rubbing her wrists.

Phryne handed her the matchbox, and Muriel lit another one whilst Phryne untied the boy. "I'm Phryne Fisher, Ralph delivers me milk from time to time. I didn't intend to rescue you, but fate has taken a strange hand. Please explain to me what happened, and quick smart about it!" she said sternly.

Muriel looked at Ralph in the half-light and he nodded at her.

They sat down against the crates comfortably, and Phryne waited patiently for them to begin.

"Well, it's like this, Miss Fisher," started Muriel rather hurriedly. Her voice tinkled like her sisters, and her eyes were just as big and curious.

"Ralph and I wanted to run away together, and I asked my uncle for some money, I didn't think he would mind, and he didn't. Even better, he said we could live down here in the cellar… so I consented. He told me to bring what ever money I had to help pay for food and things. I stole some from mother, and we came here."

Phryne nodded and Ralph took over.

"But, you see, my parents are rich, and Muriel's uncle found out, so when we arrived, he doped our tea and tied us up instead."

"He said he's going to send the family a ransom note to Ralph's parents, asking for money!" cried Muriel. "He's already rich enough, but greedy," she added angrily.

Phryne sighed. "Well Muriel, thanks to your diary and your sister, I found you alright."

"Oh, I forgot about my diary. What a stroke of luck. But now we're all stuck down here!" sniffed Muriel.

"Calm yourself girl! We must find a way out," said Phryne simply, and went to stand up. She jumped suddenly as there was a loud crack, and the three looked at each other uneasily. It was only when Phryne heard the sound of water rushing into the small cellar that she began to panic.

It was getting late, and Dot was beginning to worry. There wasn't really anything to worry about, but she couldn't help it. The phone rang sharply, and she jumped up from her seat by the window, beating Mr. Butler to it.

"Yes? This is Dorothy Williams, Fisher residence," bumbled Dot, her words mixing together.

"Miss Williams? It's Inspector Robinson. I was expecting a call from Miss Fisher regarding the case, but I haven't received it yet, may I please speak to her?"

Dot paused. "She's already solved the case, Inspector. Sorry for not telling you, but she's gone to collect the runaways," said Dot.

She heard Jack sigh. "Oh, okay. Funny she didn't tell me about it. Well, that's that, I guess," said Jack. "Do you know where she's gone?"

"3 Holland Street," recited Dot. "She's been gone for a while."

"Well… I'll drop by there if she hasn't returned within the hour. Call me if she turns up," said Jack.

"Righto Inspector. Good day."

Dot hung the phone up and began biting her fingernails, a habit that she had given up long ago. She wandered back to her seat by the window and picked up her knitting, beginning absently.

"Is everything alright?" came a voice. Dot looked up to find Mr. Butler standing before her bearing a cup of tea. She accepted it gratefully, taking a comforting sip.

"I can't help feeling," said Dot worriedly, " that something has gone terribly wrong."

Jane looked out the car window, and wandered what was taking Miss Fisher so long.

"What do you think they're doing in there?" asked Esther of her friend, fiddling with the end of her plait. Jane shrugged. "Beats me."

They sat in silence again before Esther went to open the car door. "I think I'll just go and see," she said, and was stopped by a firm grip on her arm.

"No! Miss Phryne told us to wait here!"

"So?"

Jane looked at Esther angrily. "If she says stay here, then we stay here, okay?"

Esther sat back in her seat and let out a sigh. "But she's been gone for ages!"

Jane looked out upon the sea and frowned. It had been awhile.

"Let's give it half an hour more, and if she hasn't come out, we'll do something," decided Jane.

Esther realized that this was the best result she was going to get, and said nothing.

Phryne had tried putting a firm shoulder to the door, but failed multiple times. She had tried calling to no avail. She had kicked at the door until her perfect shoe was utterly destroyed.

"He's crazy," said Ralph for what seemed the hundredth time.

"I'm hungry," moaned Muriel. "All he gave us was carrots and bread."

Phryne lit another match. She only had a few left and was trying to save them. The water was at her knees when she was not on the stairs, and she was deeply regretting not bring Jack with her. The water pipe had burst, and Phryne angrily put the whole situation down to bad timing.

"The pipe had been dripping for days," Ralph had told her. "I'm so sorry Miss Fisher, we got you into this mess."

"Nonsense," replied Phryne, sitting up on a top step. "I got myself into it, like always. In situations like this my dears, there is not much we can do but wait for help to arrive."

"How long will it be before it… floods?" asked Muriel cautiously.

Phryne tried to calculate rough numbers in her head.

"About an hour," said Ralph, taking a seat on another step and holding Muriel in his arms. It was dark, but he could see her faint outline. She was beginning to shiver, and he held her tightly, wiping her tears with the cuff of his dirty sleeve.

Phryne listened to her sobs, leaning against the heavy door. "Oh Jack," she sighed. Phryne hated being a damsel in distress more than anything, but somehow she had managed to be outsmarted by a clever old lady, much to her annoyance. "And now here I am," she said. "I've landed myself in a tough spot, and I am in desperate need of a brave policeman."

Muriel sniffed and croaked, "Too right."

Phryne suddenly realized that she had been thinking out loud, and cleared her throat. Jane and Esther would soon realize that something was up, wouldn't they? The cellar was silent apart from the sound of water rushing into the small room. Phryne listened, and thought of Mr. Robert Thatcher, who, at this moment, was probably drinking tea and laughing at his undignified success. There had to be another way out.

"I'm going to look for another way out," said Phryne, her voice bouncing off the walls.

Muriel sighed and stood up. "It's no use," she said bluntly, but lit the last match all the same. She did not fancy drowning, and the water was rising too quickly.

Phryne shivered as she hit the water that now floated up to her chest. She walked steadily forward, trying to swallow the fear that was slowly creeping up on her.

Muriel followed behind her, holding the match, but it wasn't long before they were once again surrounded by darkness.

Jane was becoming nervous. She opened the car door with click, waking Esther who had dozed off, her head lulling back on the car seat lazily.

"I'm going to see what's going on," said Jane finally, and, without waiting for Esther, ran up the steps and knocked loudly on the door. There was no answer.

"Uncle Robert?" called Esther, looking through the side windows.

"Where did he go?" asked Jane nervously. "Knock again."

Esther did as she was told, but again, no one came to the door. She tried the doorknob, but it was locked from the inside. Jane eyed her friend and made up her mind. "I'm going for the Inspector. Wait here, there's a phone box just down the road," said Jane, and ran back to the car, collected a few coins, and began to run as fast as her legs would allow.

Hugh Collins answered the phone absently, and began his usual "City South Police Station, how may I help you," when he was cut off by Jane's voice.

"Constable Collins! You need to get to 3 Holland Street now, I think Miss Fisher might be in trouble, oh please hurry, we can't get in!" cried Jane rather urgently.

"I'll be right there," said Hugh quickly, throwing the phone down and calling for his boss.

"Inspector, Miss Fisher's in trouble, we have to go now," said Hugh, and didn't wait for an answer as he ran out to the car, Jack in hot pursuit.

"Damn it," muttered Jack, starting the engine of the car. It was a half hour drive to Holland Street, and even Jack, who would break any road rule to save Phryne, was not going to get there any quicker.

Phryne was trying desperately to calm a weeping Muriel when she leaned against the sidewall and, to her pure amazement, discovered a chord hanging. She pulled it, and a bulb that was swinging from the roof flicked a few times. Ralph gasped and gave a weak smile. At least something had gone right. They had been forced up to the top step, the water at their ankles. Phryne called out again to Robert, but the solid door and thick walls deafened her voice.

"It's okay, don't cry," soothed Ralph, patting Muriel gently on the back. "You don't want to die crying."

This comment made her cry even more, and Phryne gave Ralph a sharp glare, causing him to look down sheepishly. "That wasn't very tactful, was it?" Phryne told him crossly.

"Sorry," he said glumly.

They could clearly see the water pipe in the corner now, water pouring uncontrollably from it. "We can at least try and stop the water," said Phryne, and waded in reluctantly. She swam over to the pipe, but the crack was too far up.

"Damn," she whispered, and looked back at the sorrowful couple perched on the stairs.

"It's too high," she called.

Ralph motioned her back. "It must be cold, come back up here Miss Fisher."

Phryne swam back to the step, emerging from the water dripping, her dress clinging to her body.

Ten minutes later, the water was at Phryne's neck, and perched herself on the railings of the stairs with her fellow captives, wondering what was going to become of her. She didn't fancy dying. "This is looking rather hopeless, she said, wishing she had prepared for a flash flood emergency. She looked around the gloomy room, her hands on her hips. "Isn't there anything, a secret door, a tunnel perhaps?" she asked, exasperated.

Muriel shrugged. "I don't think so," she sighed, the water bobbing around her chin. Ralph was holding her tightly. "I'm not a good swimmer," she said nervously, and looked up at the roof, jumping slightly as the soft bulb cast a thin ray of light above her head.

"What's that?" she asked suddenly, pointing to the roof.

Phryne and Ralph followed her gaze. They gasped. "Well go to the foot of our stairs," breathed Ralph, and began to climb the railings of the stairs to reach what seemed to be a very convenient trap door.

"Wonderful!" cried Phryne, and gave Muriel a boost up as Ralph pulled the handle down and hoisted himself up, dripping and cold.

The water was rising dangerously. Ralph pulled Muriel up after him, holding out his arm again for Miss Fisher.

"Where are you?" called Phryne.

Ralph pulled, and Phryne suddenly found herself being lifted up through the trap door with ease, leaving behind the flooded cellar.

"What a lucky escape," commented Muriel. She slumped down on the carpeted floor, looking around. "We're in the palour, I wonder where he's got to?"

The little trap door, half hidden by the carpet, was in the corner of the room.  
Phryne looked around. The palour was not like the other part of the house. It was bright and lady like, becoming in it's own way. The walls were a pale blue, and the plush furniture set off the old draws and china plates beautifully. Phryne said so.

"We must get out," she added quickly, and went over to the window, stopping in her tracks as Muriel cried out. She swiveled around, just in time to see Robert Thatcher behind her, the golden gun in his hand.

Jack and Hugh pulled up on the sidewalk by Miss Fisher's great car, where Jane and Esther were leaning, talking in low voices. Jane jumped as Jack pulled up and got out of the car.

"Oh Inspector!" cried Jane. "All the curtains and drawn and the doors locked, and Miss Phryne went in to get Ralph and Muriel but she hasn't come out yet!"

Jack looked at Hugh, and the two policemen hurried up the steps, banging loudly on the front door.

Phryne jumped. Someone was knocking on the front door. "I think there's someone at the door," she said calmly to the old women, who didn't seem to have heard. Robert was not as deaf as she had thought, and suddenly didn't look as stupid. A greedy man who would sacrifice the freedom of his niece, all for the sake of a few hundred quid. And now it seemed he was willing to kill three people to stay out of jail.

"They can wait. You shouldn't have come here today, now I'll have to kill all of you," the man said.

"But why, Uncle Robert? Please stop this! She's just an innocent woman who was trying to help" cried Muriel.

Phryne grinned at the word innocent, but didn't say anything.

"I can't let you go now without being arrested. Why are you all wet?" he asked suddenly.

Phryne glanced at Ralph and Muriel. "You seem to have some problem with the pipes down in the cellar," she said evenly.

Mr. Thatcher was about to say something, when Jack Robinson's voice boomed from outside. "Mr. Thatcher, are you there?"

Phryne couldn't help but smile. Robert Thatcher turned, the gun in his hand wavering, Muriel and Ralph in her line of fire. "Don't move," he said, or I'll shoot."

"Please let us go," whispered Muriel shakily.

"Not likely. I'm not a stupid as you think, my girl. Now, up against that wall," he said, and Muriel did as she was told, Ralph following in suit.

Jack looked at Hugh. "What the devil do you think's going on?" asked Hugh.

"I don't know, but we're about to find out," replied Jack firmly, and put his shoulder to the door, Jane and Esther standing behind him.

Phryne saw her chance. She crept up behind Robert, grabbing him around the neck. He yelled out, firing a shot inadvertently that shattered the roof.

"Run!" yelled Phryne, and the two kids ran out to the front door. He was surprisingly strong, but Phryne had a grip like a strong man around his neck, and she gave him a sharp kick just as another shot fired, and Phryne staggered backwards, gasping.

The front door came down with a mighty crash as Jack gave it another shove, and he stormed in. "Where did that shot come from?" yelled Jack furiously, and soon after found a weeping girl in his arms.

"Muriel!" cried Esther and went to embrace her sister.

Jane looked around wildly. "Miss Phryne?" she called, and followed the sound of the gun into the palour, stopping in her tracks as she entered the room.

Robert was crouched on the floor, the gun a few feet away. Behind him, Phryne Fisher stood, staring down at her fresh wound. The bullet had clipped her side, and blood poured freely.

"Jane!" smiled Phryne, before dropping to her knees and feeling the world spin around before her. "Inspector!" yelled Jane, and ran to Phryne's side, picking up the little gun on the way. Muriel and Ralph appeared at the door, Muriel weeping into her lover's shirt, making it wetter than it already was.

Jack shoved them aside and strode across the room, pointing at the man on the ground, who seemed to be in pain. "She kicked me in the ribs," heaved Robert.

"You shot her!" shouted Muriel who was sobbing.

"Arrest him, Collins," said Jack, and bent down beside Phryne, who was sagging in Jane's arms. "Jack… I mean, Inspector," said Phryne, blinking a few times. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you… but…" she trailed off, and Jack grabbed her shoulder.

"Phryne!" he said urgently. He looked at Jane who was looking desperately into the face of her adoptive mother. "Miss Phryne?" she said.

Jack pushed Jane aside gently. "I've got her," he said, and took Phryne in his arms, letting Jane hold her cardigan against the wound tightly.

"You bastard!" hissed Ralph at Robert, as Hugh led him through the hallway and out into the windy sunshine. As they passed the cellar, Ralph suddenly remembered the water and, grabbing the key that hung beside the door, unlocked it.

A rush of water greeted them, and Hugh watched, his eyes wide, as the front hall flooded. He gripped Robert tighter and led him outside, trying to ignore the fact that his good shoes were soaked.

As they entered the sunshine, Robert turned in Hugh's grip in time to see Jack Robinson walking out behind them, his face expressionless. Jane fussed around him, trying to hold the blood-soaked cardigan in place whilst Phryne lay in Jack's arms, her head resting on his shoulder. It was indeed a sight, thought Robert as the water spilled out the front door behind them.

"I didn't mean to shoot her," mumbled Robert.

Hugh gave him a shove and he was instantly quiet.

"I'm taking her to the hospital," said Jack to Hugh, and placed Phryne in the back seat of her own car with Jane, Esther climbing in beside Jack. Muriel and Ralph followed Hugh, looking downhearted and angry.

"Is she okay?" asked Esther, ringing out the bottom of her dress and turning to face her friend as Jack drove on quickly down the street. Esther gripped the back of the seat tighter as they swerved around a corner. Jack clenched his teeth. It had been a long time since he had driven this fast.

Phryne's eyes flickered, and she leaned against Jane who was desperately trying to stop the blood flow, her hands stained and messy. Phryne looked at Jane and managed to put her own hand on the wound. "Thank you," she whispered, and it was then that Jane began to cry.

As Jack carried Phryne into the hospital, he reluctantly allowed a tall man to take her from him, watching her go painfully. He hadn't been there. She had needed him, and he had failed her. Jane grabbed his hand gently, their bloodstained fingers entwined. She looked up at Jack. "She'll be fine."

Jack nodded but didn't say anything, and after a minute of staring into nothingness, he let go of Jane's hand and walked out of the hospital doors without looking back.

"Where are you going?" called Jane, running out after him. "Inspector?"

Jack didn't turn back. "She needs you, can't you see that?" yelled Jane.

Esther, who had kept her distance, put a hand on Jane's shoulder. "Let him go. I'm sure he'll come back," she said.

Jane bit her lip. "I hope so."

Phryne Fisher woke up alone. The room was small and silent. She frowned and looked down, noticing that she was covered in white sheets. "That can only mean one thing," she muttered. "A hospital. What on earth happened?"

There was a rustle from beside her, and someone sighed. "You're awake, dearie me," yawned a nurse. She was plump and rosy, and she smiled upon Phryne with sympathy. "You were shot, right there in the side," said the nurse, indicating Phryne's bullet wound on her own body."

"By who?"

The nurse shuddered. "Ah, a dreadful man. But you're not to worry love, he's locked up for good now. Kept claiming that he never even meant to shoot you, the bastard."

Phryne managed a smile.

"You're maid will be here soon, she's been sitting by your bed for nearly two days now, and just popped out to get a few things, didn't want you to wake up alone… what rotten timing," sighed the nurse. "I'll go and fetch her."

With that, the nurse left, leaving Phryne alone to gather her thoughts and try to remember what had happened. She remembered Muriel and Ralph… Robert Thatcher, the flooded cellar. And Jack had been there, yes, he had. Where was Jack?

At that moment, the door flew open, interrupting her thoughts. Dot, who had evidently been crying, ran into the room, throwing herself into the chair by Phryne's bed and weeping freely.

"You're okay!" she cried, and began laughing.

"Of course I am! My, how long have I been here for?" asked Phryne.

"Two days," came a voice from the doorway. Phryne smiled as Hugh entered the room, handing Phryne a rose. She accepted it and tried to sit up. Dot held her hand and shook her head. "Don't bother miss. Does it… uh… hurt?"

"Does what hurt?" asked Phryne. Her question was answered a few seconds later as she moved awkwardly, and suddenly it felt like the left side of her stomach was on fire.

"Ah, yes it does rather," she gasped, and tried to smile as Dot's face grew anxious.

"Oh miss, I was that worried!" cried Dot. "But you rescued those two kids good enough, they brought you this as a thank you," said Dot, and pointed to an enormous vase of flowers.

"I don't think they'll try running away again," commented Hugh.

Dot's face grew fierce. "I'll catch them if they do."

Phryne grinned weakly. "How is everyone else? I mean is Jane okay?"

"Yes miss, she's home right now with Mr. Butler, still a bit shaken, but she's a tough one. Bert and Cec have been, so has Dr. Mac. She said you were lucky," said Dot.

"And… the Inspector?" prompted Phryne.

Dot and Hugh exchanged a quick glance. Hugh nodded at her, and Dot looked at the pale hand in her own.

"Come on Dot, out with it," encouraged Phryne, going to sit up again and wincing.

"Don't sit up miss," began Dot. She took a deep breath. "He's gone to Perth."

Phryne lifted her head, looking at her maid blankly. "But… I didn't think he was going to leave for a few more weeks," said Phryne, frowning.

"He said he got called up early for a tricky case," said Dot nervously.

"Oh. Well, you can't help that I suppose. When is he coming back?"

Dot looked uncomfortably at Hugh.

"He isn't."

Phryne's eyes widened, and she looked at Hugh for confirmation, receiving a hesitant nod in return. "What? He can't just leave, he didn't… he wouldn't have left without saying goodbye," said Phryne, her voice softening near the end of the sentence.

Dot searched her brain frantically for something comforting to say, but found nothing. The amount of time she had spent trying to contact Jack before he left was ridiculous, and she looked at Phryne helplessly, wishing that there was something she could do to make everything better.

Jack Robinson stood on the platform of train station, his hands deep in this coat pockets, his eyes staring blankly out into the mass of rushing people. Perth was nice. His sister had given him a comfortable spare room until he could find his own place. Everything was running smoothly.

There was no way you could have stayed, thought Jack to himself. He began making his way slowly off the station, all the while trying to convince himself that he was not in love. I'm not. I do not love her, he repeated to himself. It began to rain softly, a sprinkling sort of rain. He looked up at the sky, and found himself wondering whether Phryne was okay. What was she going to think when she woke up, if she ever did, to find him gone? He shuddered and dismissed the word 'abandoned' from his mind. He had not abandoned her, he had merely left. Gone. Without saying goodbye.

As the days passed slowly, Phryne waited for Jack to return in the hospital bed. Dot had told her that he gone, but surely he would come back, he had to.

She smiled at the various visitors who came and left. Cec and Bert brought tales from the wharf, Jane came and read her stories, Mr. Butler came bearing biscuits, and even Aunt Prudence dropped buy with a box of chocolates and a scolding for getting into such an unlady-like situation.

The thing that bothered Phryne the most was that every time she saw the doorknob turn, that small shred of hope that surged through her was set on fire. It had to be Jack, it just had to.

It never was though.

"Miss?" said Dot anxiously, cutting through Phryne's fading thoughts.

"Mhmm?"

"The doctor says you're right to go, I got your things packed," said Dot.

Phryne looked up at her maid, her face uncertain. "Jack didn't come back," she whispered.

Dot looked into the pain-stricken eyes and bit her lip. They had gone a week without mentioning him, although Dot knew it was all Phryne was thinking about.

"No, he didn't," she replied carefully.

"I was sure he would."

"Me too."

"I didn't even get to say goodbye," said Phryne.

Dot held out her arm to assist Phryne out of bed. She took it reluctantly, and got out of the bed, finding that she wasn't in as much pain as she had originally thought. "It's okay Dot, I think I can walk," said Phryne. Her wound was securely patched and sterile, her appetite back to normal, and her skin glowing again. But there was a fresh hole in her heart that seemed to hurt more than being shot.

Another week past. The rest of the household watched Phryne carefully. Something was missing. There was some spark that had died, and the house seemed desperately saddened without it. Most nights ended with Phryne sitting alone in the palour with a comforting drink, Dot, Mr. Butler and Jane asleep.

She spent her time alone. She had never had this feeling before, never. It was awful, and there was nothing, nothing that anyone could say or do to make it go away.

It was for that exact reason that Hugh Collins boarded the train one afternoon, a ticket to Perth in his hand and a look of sincere determination on his face. Hugh had visited Dot every day for a week, and in that time, there was no escaping that fact that everything was upside down. "I am the man," Hugh said firmly as the train shuddered and chuffed, "and it is up to me to set things right again. He turned to face out the window. He couldn't help but feel slightly nervous. Was he doing the right thing?

Hugh shook his head. "I am doing the right thing," he said through clenched teeth as the views flew past through the window.

"What are you doing here?" asked Jack. He was standing on his sister's porch in casual dress, a baffled look on his face, facing his ex-constable. Hugh swallowed a nervous lump in his throat. "I- I'm here to bring you home," said Hugh firmly. "I asked the Chief Commissioner, you can have your old job back… if you want it."

Jack, slightly taken aback by his abruptness, frowned. "Why? This is my home now. I am home."

"No you aren't, you belong in Melbourne… with Miss Fisher."

Jack paused. Hugh raised his eyebrows, his face slightly flushed. "I'm not your constable at the moment, I'm your… uh… friend," said Hugh, scratching the back of his neck.

Jack shrugged. "Okay?"

"Exactly. Please come back with me. I mean, you can't really be happy here, don't you miss us?"

Jack shuffled awkwardly. "I-miss you? I guess I haven't really thought about you…"

"Not me sir, I mean, Mr. Robinson. Don't you miss… you know, Miss Fisher?"

"Miss Fisher? She's okay?" said Jack quickly.

Hugh nodded. "She's fine, sort of."

"Sort of?"

Hugh paused. "I know that you know… that you don't belong here," began Hugh, having not the slightest clue of what he was going to say next. He took another dramatic pause. "You should see the way she waited for you. Every day. She's still waiting for you to come back."

"Miss Fisher?"

Hugh nodded slowly. "So… why did you leave anyway?"

Jack sighed and looked at the ground. He never talked like this with anyone, not even his sister. He wasn't sure what to say.

"Waiting for me? But… I've been relocated."

Hugh nodded and looked back at Jack. "Yeah, I know. We all know. But you just left so suddenly," he said. "And forgive me if I'm wrong, but I don't believe that there was ever a case up here to solve. I think you ran because you were afraid. Afraid that Miss Fisher was going to die, and it was going to be all your fault, so you left."

"I had to," burst out Jack. "I couldn't stay, I couldn't face her… she was just lying there, bleeding in my arms, and it was like the time I thought she was dead… it was all too much, and I thought to myself, I can't be there when she dies. I should have gone to the house with her. I had to leave."

Hugh listened intently before looking up at the sky. "Oh. I see. Well, she's alive though, she's going to be okay." They looked at each other for a brief second.

"Jack?" called a voice from inside. Hugh peered around Jack as a woman came out, a mixing bowl in her hand and a wooden spoon in the other. "Oh, hello," she said.

Hugh smiled. "Good morning miss."

"I'm Jack's sister Annie, he probably didn't mention me," said Annie, and, ignoring Jack's silent protests, went over to Hugh. Placing the spoon in the bowl, she gripped Hugh's hand and gave it a strong shake, a characteristic that Hugh had always valued in a person. Annie had Jack's smile, and her eyes had the same soft glow. Her hair was bunched at the back of her neck, brown hair straying from the pale blue band.

"I'm Hugh… Hugh Collins, I'm from Melbourne, your brother used to be my boss."

Annie raised her eyebrows. "How lovely! But what are you doing all the way over here?" she asked.

They both looked over at Jack, who had been staring silently out at the lush green front yard, a strange expression on his face.

"Not much actually, I just had some news to deliver…. But I guess I'll be off now," said Hugh.

"Nonsense, you must stay for lunch!" insisted Annie.

Hugh smiled. "My train leaves then, although I'd really love to. Well, Mr. Robinson… now that you have full possession of all the facts, I'll leave you to do what you want to with it. Good day," said Hugh politely, and, tipping his hat to a confused Annie, he left down the front path.

Annie turned to her brother. "What was he talking about? Jack?" she asked, going up and waving a hand in front of his still face.

Jack turned to face his sister, and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear affectionately.

"Annie, I have been a fool, a stupid fool," he began. "And it has taken me a while I'll admit, but there's no use denying it."

"Denying what?"

Jack sighed. "I am in love with a wonderful woman, and I can't stay here," he said, and with that, ran inside to gather his things.

"Who? Who are you in love with?" called Annie from the porch. Receiving no reply, Annie shook her head and returned to the baking of her cake. "He never tells me anything!" she grumbled crossly.

Three days later found Dot waking Phryne at a late hour of the morning, her manner fresh and radiant, pleased that Phryne was home again.

"Coffee, miss?" asked Dot, drawing back the curtains of Phryne's bedroom. It was another lovely spring day, and Phryne sat up in the bed. She nodded, stifling a yawn.

"Strong, if you will," said Phryne.

"How are you feeling?" asked Dot, approaching the edge of the bed anxiously.

Phryne smiled at her maid. "Oh Dot, you must stop worrying about me. I'm perfectly fine, really," said Phryne, laying a hand on Dot's arm.

Dot smiled uncertainly, and left to fetch a strong pot of coffee and a croissant.

As she made her way down the stairs, she paused as the phone rang loudly. She watched as Mr. Butler answered the phone with grace.

"Fisher residence, how may I assist?" he asked coolly.

Dot hears squeaking on the other end, and after a moment, Mr. Butler smiled and put the phone down. He looked up at Dot.

"Ah, Dorothy," he smiled sunnily.

"Would you tell Miss Fisher that if she is up for it, Constable Collins has a rather delicate case for her," he said. "A break in, down at Mr. Anderson's jewelry store."

Dot frowned. "I'd rather she didn't go off on cases this soon," she said worriedly. "But I'll tell her, I suppose."

She went back up to Phryne's room. Miss Fisher was sitting at her dressing table, brushing her hair and humming gently.

"Miss?"

Phryne turned. "Another case, Dot? I heard quite clearly. I have a feeling that dear old Hugh is having some problems with that temporary Inspector. Don't fret," she added quickly as Dot ventured to argue.

"I've spent too much time inside, the fresh air and a new case will do me good."

"Miss, you were inside for a good reason! You were shot, don't forget."

"It's hard to forget something that painful," said Miss Fisher.

Dot sighed and retreated to the kitchen, shaking her head and complaining about the dangers of having an adventuress as a mistress.

Phryne dressed in a dark blue suit and applied a to her face fierce red lipstick and a few dabs of a powder puff before meeting Dot down by the door. Although it hurt, Phryne decided that she had indeed had a lucky escape, and kissed Dot on the cheek, reassuring her that she would be fine.

Phryne jumped into her car and sighed. A new case, eh?

She started the engine and shook her head firmly as Jack flicked across her mind intrudingly. He was gone, there was no point thinking about him, yet all she did was think about him.

She sat for a moment to gather herself, and smiled at the steering wheel, running her hand over it affectionately. It had been too long. Now, where was Mr. Anderson's jewelry store?

Steering the car carefully out onto the street, Phryne drove on, relishing the feeling of the wind rushing past her face as she stamped on the accelerator. The familiar rush of adrenaline burned through her, and she greeted it warmly.

Pulling up beside the jewelry store in less time than was appropriate. Hugh watched her arrive, shaking his head as she stepped out, her feet crunching on glass. A smashed window was never pleasant, thought Phryne, and smiled at Hugh.

"It's bad, miss. Nearly everything's gone," he sighed.

Phryne looked at the store. It was a mess. "Well," she commented, putting her hand on her hips. "I can see that. Where is the new Detective Inspector?" she asked.

Hugh blushed red. "I- uh, he's behind you miss," he said, and motioned to a figure, who was emerging from the little shop next door after interviewing the owner.

"Miss Fisher," said Jack, the way he always did.

Phryne, who had yet to turn around, gave Hugh a puzzled look, and looked around, dreading that her mind was playing tricks on her. But it wasn't. There he was, standing there in his blue suit, his eyes twinkling and a notebook in his hand.

"Jack," whispered Phryne.

She walked slowly over to him and they met in the middle. Jack shook his head in disbelief. There she was, as perfect as ever.

"You're a lot cleaner than the last time I saw you," commented Jack, and Miss Fisher smiled. "Oh yes, thank you for saving me by the way."

Jack shrugged. "I'm sorry for… for leaving."

Phryne put a finger to his lips. "You're back now," she whispered.

"And here to stay, if you'll have me."

Phryne blinked as she felt her emotions beginning to show, but it was too late. "Of course," she said gently, as he wiped a tear from her cheek.

Taking up her hand tenderly, Jack inched closer, and Hugh couldn't help but smile as their lips touched tenderly. "Finally!" he said happily, and Jack looked up, giving Hugh an appreciative smile.

"Thank you," he said over the top of Phryne's head.

Hugh nodded. "A pleasure, sir," he said seriously. "A real pleasure."


End file.
